All the sounds heard in this four-movement, 19-minute piece coming in a semi-transparent disc derive from Steven Hess’ drums and percussion. If you have a hard time believing that there aren’t electronics involved, then send a card to Robert Hampson, whose mix transforms the original sources into skipping beats, abnormal liquids, gelatinous halos, lost quasars. The translation is a fluttering kind of music halfway through Hampson’s now terminated Main alias and the inspections of resonant percussive objects typical of sound artists like Jason Kahn and – why not – Crouton’s boss Jon Mueller. These four segments are moved by similar energies, short loops and repetitive geometries carefully deployed, progressively establishing a series of nimble movements in the stereo image. This spurious tissue is treated with a mixture of concreteness and hermetism, so that one is forced to look for camouflaged meanings with each new listen.